


Apoptosis

by Fanfic_is_a_sin



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Ding dong Erwin's dead, Have some practice angst, I'm back again and less likely to complete a fic than ever, M/M, Oh well kids, That's literally all this is, canon is for people who aren't me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 14:53:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10969542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfic_is_a_sin/pseuds/Fanfic_is_a_sin
Summary: Erwin's dead, but you already knew that. Everyone already knew that. But nobody knows it like Levi. That's why they asked him to say a few words. If only he had just a few.





	Apoptosis

He doesn't look that different. Dead like marble's dead. All thin and flowing curves ending in hard, regal and uncanny lines at his jaw or his fingernails. Damn him, and how he held together. Damn him, and how long he'd made Levi think he did it easily, like how easily he ordered men to die or pushed his fingers through Levi's hair when he didn't want to talk. Damn him for breaking down in a blurred October and telling Levi that none of those things were easy, for the way his remaining hand shook with its fistful of Levi's coat when Levi called him stupid for saying so. Damn being sorry. Words. Get to the words.

"Erwin Smith was," Levi said.

The podium was too tall, and it made him look silly when he held his head high and tried to read the crumpled paper laid out in front of him down the line of his nose. It made him pause. He would have liked to think that's what made him pause, anyway. Once, he bruised his own neck crushing Erwin's fingers around it because the fucking bastard was holding back. This didn't feel like that. The coarse weight in his throat now felt like trying to talk to Erwin after he'd ripped his hand away and leaned back, missed the edge of the bed trying to grab it with his missing arm and crashed into the floor. He was angry, then. Embarrassed, and hurt, and _resentful_. And no matter what Levi said, it came out wrong, because his voice scratched and he coughed and he couldn't say it without sounding sullen. Worst of all, while he tried to say it wasn't a big deal all he could think about was how much he liked the way his voice sounded right then. Start over.

"Erwin was," he tried again, but it sounded too personal. A few of the faces buried in the wash of the audience shifted into surprise. They were the ones who knew he didn't act like this. Levi never choked. Everyone else was new, just here because of how many badges were pinned on the body's chest. They weren't surprised, because everyone acted like this at funerals. Especially the people giving speeches. Just stick to what's written down. Keep going.

But he couldn't, because Erwin Smith wasn't any of the things he'd written. He wasn't noble. He wasn't a good leader. He wasn't bold or daring or a hero in a time when people needed one. Anyone could have been those things. Anyone would have had to. Erwin had thought of himself that way, of course. Noble, most of all. Noble like a blinded Sampson pulling down the house of the Philistines in one summation of repentance and retribution. Noble like the kind of man who needed to die. That's why Levi knew he wasn't really what he thought of himself. If he was noble, in his bones, he would always have needed to die like this. It would have been who he was. But no, Levi was certain that he was something else. Not noble enough for this coffin to be natural. Erwin Smith drank too much. Erwin Smith could cry. Erwin Smith broke three knuckles punching a desk because he couldn't get his stupid tie on right with just one arm.

He didn't die like this because it was the kind of man he was. He died like this because he made a choice about the kind of man he demanded to be. It was probably an empty distinction, but Levi couldn't let it go. That's what they had in common. They drew lines after they crossed them. When Levi asked if Erwin loved him, he asked like the answer was supposed to be no. Erwin said, _close_. Levi asked how close. Erwin replied, _close enough_.

He'd taken too long again, and now people were waiting. The ones he knew, waiting to see if he was truly broken by this. The ones he didn't, waiting because they were already sure he was. He couldn't start over again, or he would be. If he made himself go back, read off his list of admirable and unquestionable traits, he would get it right and everyone would understand. They would understand that this was hard, and that Levi knew him better than anyone, and some might even understand that Levi loved him. He could not let them understand these things. He could not let them understand Erwin Smith as a lost comrade, or commander, or friend, or lover. That was not enough. All Levi could bring to bear on them, though, was the truth, and that was almost certainly too much to understand. Ah, well. What did he owe them, more than Erwin?

"Erwin Smith was nothing like this." He crumpled the paper up, not for the first time, and sent it hard into the polished cover of the casket.

The crowd shuffled, looking between themselves, and then to Levi for an explanation. Levi, though, was already leaving. There was nothing else worth saying over the handsome and peaceful corpse of a long-gone man. Erwin didn't look that different, laying with his eyes closed and face set in its grim serenity. He looked like a fallen hero, a man willing to give himself without any reason but that he was noble. But Levi remembered those eyes, and how much heat was in them when he was looking up from the floor or talking about his soldiers and his revolution and his purpose. Levi remembered the man who wanted to be marble. Levi remembered, or was just the only one who knew that Erwin Smith only wanted to be noble.

But, the truth was, Erwin was too kind to be a hero, until that moment when he looked at Levi's pleading face and found his nobility in the one moment when Levi needed him to be selfish.He wasn't the hero they would bury with medals on his chest, but Levi knew from the pain in his throat that Erwin Smith was close enough.


End file.
